Finding asylum
by The Infamous Fly
Summary: Mike Schmidt & Jeremy Fitzgerald are doctors at the Friendly Hills institute. And their patients? A mutilated homeless man who believes himself to be a pirate, a woman who will literally eat anything, a guy who is seven feet tall and is afraid of everything, and the man they all look up to, Freddy. And they are the nice ones. COMPLETE!
1. The best thing

**_~{0}~_**

* * *

Mike Schmidt would be hard pressed to find the part he liked "best" about working at the Friendly hill's institute for the mentally ill. That didn't mean that there was so much good stuff, that he wasn't able to pick what was best. Quite the opposite.

There's was so many awful factors to his job in fact, that he was unable to single out a particularly good thing from the pack.

He had known that working with the mentally ill would not be particularly easy, after all, one does not go through four years of college and earn a doctorate through being naive. But his patients could be trying at the best of times, and almost insufferable at the worst.

If his assistance were at least _competent_ than at least that problem would be slightly more tolerable. But the only doctor who helped with the same group as him, was a nervous wreck. While brilliant, as well as being kin and understanding to his charges, Jeremy Fitzgerald left an excessive amount of post it notes lying about in his office, and frequently wasted his time with questions that the younger doctor already knew the answer to. The janitor was nearly despicable, as Mike had caught him on more than one occasion, checking out one of the patients.

This was not the only thing about Fritz Smith that drove Michel up a wall. The man slobbered like a dog, smoked stinky cigars, and occasionally made jokes about Jeremy's sexuality t every chance he got. He wasn't even that good of a janitor, and Mike was certain that he would have been fired if his boss actually met the custodian.

But he had never actually seen his boss. The man was so busy that he could apparently only give him and Jeremy calls when something important happened. Him and the younger doctor had a running joke in which their boss was a robot, a stuttering, mumbling robot of doom.

But he would have been able to shrug all of that off, if the place had not been so _damn creepy._ Half of the patients liked to roam the halls, and when he was alone in his office, it was just plain frightening to see them stumble past his office window, looking possessed.

Alastair Gild (Or Goldie as his fellow patients referred to him), a full grown man with the mind of a child, enjoyed hiding in corners, and in Mike's most memorable morning yet, he had snuck into his office, hid beneath the desk. Waiting for him to sit down, the blonde had leaped out and yelled "IT'S ME!" in a voice like gravel, just scaring the daylights out of the doctor, and causing him to spill hot coffee all over his brand new coat.

But he wasn't even the worst of them.

In the children's ward, there were two incredibly annoying, yet also incredibly creepy children. One of them, an eight year old by the name of Billy Zeppelin, had extreme kleptomania and found almost everything worth giggling at. Including stealing the flashlight which Mike needed when the generator ran out (which it regularly did due to the low budget which they ran on). Apparently the kid had stolen a bunch of balloons at his birthday party, and, since no one was paying him attention, he decided it would be funny to jump off the roof. And after he managed to steal some marijuana from his therapist's home, his parents decided that he needed to be institutionalized.

The sad thing about the kid, was that his parents rarely visited, and the boy had begun to admire his fellow inmates as though they were his parents.

The other child was Mary Ornette, a seven year old who was powerless to understand language due to her Landau-Kleffner Syndrome. She had been abandoned by her parents, and the only thing that calmed her was the music box that had belonged to her mother, and playing with the puppets that she had made, all resembling fellow patients (but none of them for children besides the one for Zeppelin).

The situation was not made better by Frank Mauvine, a finance man who worked for the hospital, and probably belonged in a padded cell himself. He always wore a suit, dark purple glasses which blocked sight of any emotion to be found in his eyes, and had covered up the scar on his chin with an unnecessary level of make-up. He growled at the patients whenever they got close to him, all except the children, who he seemed to get almost too friendly with. When the strange man tried to stroke her bald head, Mary had gone running into Jeremy's arms, hugging him and almost crying out of fright.

Frank had just given Fitzgerald a smile, before standing and continuing to complain about their use of funds.

He was always on Mike's case, telling him that he was taking too long with certain patients, or that "the board" didn't approve of the spending in this department. Mike was forced to suck up to the man, and appeal to his sense of "decency" (which he was pretty sure didn't exist) whereas Jeremy fell to pieces around the strange man, and even Fritz shaped up a little bit in fear of losing his job.

But if there was one thing, that he could rely on to lighten his spirits, was the weekly. A new person would be integrated into the group every week, but there were always the same four, that he could look forward to.

Bonnie Muller, was six foot five, and as timid as a mouse, due to his OCD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. He had been found by his mailman, who had heard a noise from inside the house, and found an open window, from which he had seen the body of the afraid to leave, but out of food. When he had first arrived at their establishment, he had been unwilling to leave his room, afraid of the other patients. But after a few group therapy sessions, he had bonded with the other three regulars, and become brave enough to stand up to Goldie when he had snuck up on Mary, and to tell Mauvine to "go to hell" after the finance's man had made fun of his best friend, Chica, and her bib.

Mike could see why Bonnie had such a strong connection with Chica Pássaro, another regular at the group therapy. She was kind and energetic, mixing the food that she was given at lunch, and creating imaginative concoctions that she insisted her friends try. She was like a mother to the children as well, and enjoyed playing hide and seek with the more sociable patients. She had the eating disorder called Pica, which caused her to eat inedible objects, and had been brought in by her sister after being found on the sidewalk, where she had found and congested some broken glass. At first she had found herself out of place in Friendly Hills, not considering herself the same as most of the patients. But just like Bonnie, after group therapy, she had bonded with them, and come to accept life here.

Then there was Foxy.

Mike would have thought that the redhead's antics would have gotten old by now, but he had (unfortunately) completely embraced his pirate personality, with an extensive knowledge about actual pirate life to boot, he spoke and thought like he had actually stepped out of the seventeenth century. He had been found on the street, a homeless man, collapsed after a night of heavy drinking. An ambulance had been called, and it was only found out that he had Split-personality disorder and amnesia. When he wasn't a pirate, he was a female acrobat, which was very confusing since one week he would come into group therapy in one mindset, and the next week he might show up in a different one.

They didn't have a lot of information on him, but Mike had found that over time, as he grew closer to the others, Foxy had slipped in reality along with fantasy, and that the comradery had caused him to be more true to himself, and over time, use his female personality less. Foxy was however, the most volatile of them all, occasionally getting in fights with Goldie, and jumping on top of Jeremy. His best friend, Fredrick Bruin was always able to calm him, and was looked up to by the majority of the ward, as though he was their leader.

He certainly looked the part, when he wasn't wearing a gown, he was wearing the busted up top hat that his grandfather had owned, with an old bowtie and a tuxedo that he had brought from home. He seemed to look after everyone, breaking up fights before they even began, and making the more hostile residents get along with one another. He just had a way with people. A sort of, friendly command. It was some kind of unspoken rule that one should obey him, yet the man never abused this power. Even Frank Mauvine was careful how cruel he was when Freddy was nearby, even avoiding the children that he "loved so much" while Freddy was in the children's ward, entertaining the young ones with his enthusiastic tricks.

Fritz once said that Freddy was a better leader and generally less crazy than the majority of politicians. Mike had laughed, but knew that, deep inside, he agreed with the custodian's jest.

But of course, Freddy would be with them if he didn't have a problem, and Mike was quite sure that his was most heart-breaking of all. He had been walking home from work, and just stepped off the curb, when a drunk came screeching around the corner, and collided with him. He was luck in the fact that he had only broken a leg, but incredibly unlucky in the fact that his brain damage had caused him to contract what was known as Capragas syndrome or Delusional Misidentification Syndrome. Everyone he had known, he had started calling actors, fakes. After finding that even his children had been "replaced" he locked himself in his room, and begun sobbing. His wife had been forced to call the police, who broke down the door and found the poor man lying on the bed, torn from exhaustion.

And this problem had made it very difficult for him to get to know the other patents and therefor open up during group therapy (or even regular therapy). But once they had convinced him that these duplicates were not necessarily evil, he had begun to act more friendly with his fellow patients, and they had played along with the different names that he added to the end of their regular ones (phantom, toy, withered, shadow, nightmare, he had about four or five names for everyone). Soon, they had been able to confide in him, and through this he became there leader, always giving out the best advice, and through this, he took on a parental role for them.

But whenever his children visited, he never addressed them by their correct names, he didn't speak to them with the same comradery that he used for people he had only know six months. He was able to address all the children in the children's ward, able to make Mary feel better with shadow puppets, able to calm Billy and create a balloon animal just for him, but he was unable to re-connect with his son and daughter.

Mike had come into work early, and found Jeremy crying in his office. He had given the younger man some tissues, and hugged him while doing his best not to embarrass the poor doctor. He knew as well as anyone how sickening this job could be, how tough-hearted you had to be, and how young and vibrant souls like Jeremy always found it too much to take at some point. Once Fitzgerald had calmed, he had asked what the problem was, and listened intently as the younger man recounted his depressing tale.

Apparently, yesterday, he had walked into one of the rooms, ready to tell Freddy's family that visiting hours were over, when he saw the gentle leader's wife crying. Then he had noticed that her children were there as well, staring up at their father with broken stares and wet eyes. Freddy had been unable to comfort them, nothing but a desperate look on his face. One that asked for nothing but forgiveness, because that's all that he wanted and he was unable to give anything back. Jeremy had been forced to keep a straight face as he asked them to leave, and then he had been forced to keep his vision on the ground as Fritz tossed a pun his way, ignorant to the tragedy that his co-worker had just witnessed.

Even worse, Jeremy had awoken at six from a nightmare about the tear-jerking situation, and had gotten up, coming to work in hopes of losing his sadness in the work. But after sitting down, and finding himself alone in the silence, he had given in, and let the upsetting truth overtake him. By the end of the story, Mike himself was having trouble keeping his eyes dry.

But no matter what if there was one thing that Mike could say he liked best, if there was one thing he liked best about his crappy job, if there was one thing that he could rely on to raise his spirits, it was the group therapy. When Chica would pass around her newest treat, when Bonnie would play a soothing tune on his guitar, when Foxy would regale them with stories, and when Freddy grow a deep booming laugh.

It was the reason he always came back, the reason why he continued to work through the frustration. Because they had given him laughter and friendship, and he owed it to them to give them their lives back.

* * *

 ** _~{0}~_**

 ** _Hope you enjoyed!_**


	2. The Bite

Frank tapped his pen lightly against his pad, loafing through the building and spotting problems as he walked, with ease. A disgruntled Mike Schmidt followed him, providing the answers to the Mauvine's queries, and occasionally glancing at his partner, who was busy keeping as many patients as possible away from the strangely dressed man.

Making his way over to the children's ward, Frank glanced through the misty glass. "So…how close are you to finishing with the balloon kid?" Schmidt grew a look of confusion, and Frank felt like punching him in the face. It was a frequent feeling with him, as he hated dumb looking people. _God I need to get outta here and get a smoke._ Just when he was about to scream, Schmidt grew a brain (or piece of one at least) and realization seeped into his eyes. "Do you mean William Zeppelin?"

Nodding, Frank placed a hand on the door knob and twisted it, stepping into the children's ward. He knew that it annoyed the bumbling fool behind him, and he enjoyed the laughter of children, it was pleasant on the ears, and at least they had a reason to be stupid. "Well I mean, he's coming along, not as quickly as some of the other's but…" "His parents are pretty well off aren't they?" Schmidt frowned like an idiot, and stuttered a sound that was satisfying due to his normal confidence, but simultaneously quite annoying. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Rolling his eyes, Frank turned back to the doctor, leaning against the bed frame. "Well if there well off, then they can afford for Billy boy to stay here longer." A horrified expression crossed Schmidt's face, but it was quickly replaced by barely containable anger. "But it's not our job to-" Frank had turned away from him, and was staring intently at Mary Ornette, who was shrinking way, music box in hand. "It's your job to fix shit-head's problems, it's my job to keep this establishment making money. _Do you understand?_ " Smiling, he turned back and relished the look on his steaming opponent's face.

"We-I mean-you can't-" "What? I. CAN'T. WHAT?" Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he stepped over to the boy in question, who returned his grin. That's what Frank liked about Billy, he was never creeped out like the others. _That or he's too stupid to do otherwise._ "If the kid's parents can afford it, then who are you to say that we shouldn't put off on helping him? The money will help future patients, and it's not like the kid is desperate to leave this…place." He glanced around as he spoke, and shivered in revolution, unable to imagine living in such squalid conditions. Schmidt grabbed his arm, "Now wait a second…I don't know who you think you are but-" Smacking aside his hand with the most contempt possible, he pocked a figure into the slightly shorter man's face. "I am the guy who can fire you, and easily replace you with a more…agreeable doctor. One who doesn't get too close to his patients, one who won't mind my…frequent visits to the children's ward, provided he receive a bit of a bonus of course." Mike stumbled backwards, and Mauvine prodded him harder in the chest.

"I can get rid of you, and if your little dog gives me any trouble-" He jerked a thumb in the direction of the approaching Jeremy. "-I can get rid of him to! You think Edison Prescott is gonna have a problem with replacing you two monkeys? NO! He barely comes down here, he's busy dickin' around his office, and I got him so far under my thumb that if I squeezed real hard, HE WOULD POP!" His eyes lit up with a manic light and Mike tried to speak but was interrupted by the demented man.

"And I imagine that losing the doctors who they trust most, might cause some of these loonies to _worsen._ And if they are in a worse condition, then it takes longer to finish with them. Which means more money. Are you getting it now? DO YOU UN-DER-STAND?" The doctor glared at him hard enough to pierce stone, and if Frank didn't know better he would have said that the fool was about to tackle him. Then he turned on his heel, placing a hand on Jeremy and pulling him along with him despite the younger man's protests.

Frank smiled triumphantly, the same sort of smile that he had given after winning the race in seventh grade. But the smile wasn't for his accomplishment at the race (any idiot could run), it was for his ability to poison the one boy faster than him, and get away with it. But the sweetness of his victory was spoiled when he heard an annoying giggle and felt someone tug on his pant leg. Glancing downwards, a smile crossed his face as he saw Billy Zeppelin staring up at him. The smile wasn't endearing this time though, it looked strained, wrong in some way. Like an unnatural twist of flesh, created especially to unnerve him.

"What do you want kid?" The boy shrugged, and giggled, before running off to join his friends (if the little freak had made any). Turning away, Frank began moving towards the exit, and removed his clipboard from under his arm, only to find that his pen was missing. "What the-" Two giggles came from behind him and he turned to see Billy and the mute girl playing with his pen. The girl was giving one of her rare smiles, and the chubby boy beside her was wearing that same shit-eating grin.

Running over to them, the murderous look in his eyes cause the girl to shrink away and while her friend continued to smile. "You think it's funny to steal from me you little creep? Huh? Do you?" The boy simply watched him, his bright blue eyes unwavering in their piercing stare. Frank was a good read of character, and he could tell that below the surface the pre-teen was quite angry about the adult scaring his friend. Grabbing the boy's throat, he spoke in vicious tone. "WELL? Do you think that it funny to fuck around with me, buddy?!" Anger flashed across the face of the boy's companion, and she looked ready to tackle him in defense of her friend.

"Leave the boy alone…" The sickly sweet voice was coated with ire, and Frank loosened his grip on the child's throat, before turning his attention to the stranger. It was a man, clearly one from his scraggly red beard, but he was addressing the enraged consultant with a woman's voice. _Can't walk five steps without knocking into one of these bozos._ "Let go of that youngster Mister Mauvine…and nothing will happen to you." The man was taller, but still quite scraggly. Frank smiled as he saw a chance to get a few digs in. "Are you threatening me? Heh-heh, oh that rich…tell ya' what…" his hand closed harder and the boy gasped for breath, causing panic to seep into his silent friend, and for the "woman" who was threatening him to bite her lip.

"…you skedaddle off, and I won't have you held in solitary. 'Kay?" The man growled like an animal and stepped closer, one hand raised. Frank slapped the hand away, and glared back at his victim when the boy spoke up. "Don't worry Miss Mangle, he won't hurt me too badly…the eyes on the wall are watching!" He pointed towards the ceiling, and they all followed his gaze to the security cameras on the wall. Frank gulped upon catching sight of them, but his fear quickly disintegrated. _The security guards won't be that hard to bribe, they probably hate the kid too for sticking his balloons in front of the cameras and messing around in the vents._ "Miss Mangle" stepped closer, making eye contact with the two children before turning around. "Don't worry, I'm going to find Jeremy."

Watching the taller man leave, he wrapped his arms back around the helpless child. "I'm going to teach you not to mess with me _little buddy_ …" His friend placed her hands on his arm, and looked at him pleadingly. Enraged at being further interrupted, smacked her across the face and watched her fall backwards across the bed _. "That's what you get for touching me you little shit!"_ All the other children shrunk away, horrified expressions on their faces. The boy in his arms struggled against his grip, and tried to help his sobbing friend to her feet. "Ah-ah-ah! We're not done yet Billy…" He tightened his grip and raised a hand ready to strike, when he heard a screeching sound pierce the deathly silence. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF **OF HIM**!"

He turned just in time to have the patient from earlier jump on top of him, and bite him on the arm. Howling, he let go of the boy, and the round child feel to the ground, before hugging his distressed friend and beginning to wind her music box. Frank pushed the maniac off, and cradled his bleeding arm, staring at the newly arrived Fitzgerald. "What are you staring at, get some orderlies and get this man into solitary confinement you idiot!" For a moment frustration and rebellion crossed Jeremy's face, but then his defiance shrank away and he gave the attacker a guilty and sympathetic look, before running off and calling for Schimdt and a pair of orderlies.

Frank glared down at the man who had bitten him, holding back the urge to kick him in the head as petty revenge. Despite his love of physical violence, he knew that it was easier to get away with an emotional kick, than a regular one. "Listen to me you crazy bastard…of you ever try and bite me again…" He leaned down so that the pitiful fool could hear him. "…I'll have you put into a whole different hospital. All your friends…gone, like that!" He snapped his fingers, "I'll send you where they aren't conservative with their use of electroshock. Do you get me?" The man raised his head, and glared at him with his one, bright green eye. "I said…DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" The patient spat in his face, and continued to give him the death glare as two man pulled him away.

Wiping the saliva from his face, he turned to a stunned Schmidt with fire in his eyes and spoke with a primal growl. "You better get this place _under control, Schmidt. UNDER CONTROL!_ " He practically screamed the last part, and his eyes bulged in a way that would have been comical in a cartoon, but looked disturbing in reality. Turning away, Frank stalked towards the exit, satisfied with the idea that his assaulter would be locked up, unable to do anything but watch everyone else go on their daily business. He may not have been able to properly discipline that little brat, but he gave a couple of mental punches, by slapping his best friend and locking his protector up.

He smiled the whole elevator ride down.

* * *

 ** _Hope this is too your liking._**


	3. Sing happy songs

Mike watched the little metal balls on his desk collide with one another, his thumbs jamming against one another to nearly a painful degree.

Usually whenever his patience was wearing thin, he could always retreat to his office, turn on the fan, and watch the Newton's cradle work its magic. But today, was not one of those days. He had spent the majority of the day trying to calm down the panicking patients, Freddy and Jeremy had helped, but it was still quite difficult considering that he wanted to console the hysterical Mary by running after the man responsible and punching the living daylights out of him.

Having to walk by the imprisoned Foxy had been the worst part, he had felt his heart clench awfully. Now he sat in his swivel chair, like a slug, watching the little metal orbs collide rhythmically. With every sharp "tap" produced the words of his superior snuck into his mind, like Lone Dog extremists, working on behalf of their government despite their actions remaining unconnected. _"I can get rid of you, and if your little dog gives me any trouble...I can get rid of him too!"_ Mike despised the accusation, having to come to respect Jeremy and become somewhat towards his only sane friend in the building (and the world really). Mauvine's implications were awful, and just thinking about them made his stomach churn.

 _"I am the guy who can fire you, and easily replace you with a more…agreeable doctor. One who doesn't get too close to his patients, or mind my…frequent visits to the children's ward, provided he receives a bit of a bonus of course."_ Mike squirmed in his seat, feeling the need to punch something, to extract the twisted hatred which was coiled up in his stomach, like a coiled spring which would gouge him if it released too quickly. The images of Billy covered in bruises, and of Mary crying and gagged, were like commissioned nightmares, perfectly created for him, and they pierced his skull in a stinging manner.

His hand clenched on the wood desk as another message came in from the boss, and ignored the Edison's stuttering. Standing he kicked the phone cord out of its socket, and felt pain thrash his leg as the prongs scraped against his ankle. Hissing he sat back down and clutched it, the picture of Mauvine giggling and chiding him came to mind. _"You really have to learn to control that temper of yours Mikey my boy."_ Groaned he slammed a hand down on the desk and watched the Newton's cradle go tumbling off, and crash to the floor. The little metal orbs scattered, and Schmidt tensed with frustration, on the verge of a meltdown.

When he had finally collected all the sphere's and dropped them into the garbage, he decided to go wash up. _A little cold water will jam some sense back into you._

He sulked down the hall, and told Alistair that he wasn't "in the mood" after spotting the blonde hiding behind the water fountain.

Mike entered the bathroom, and stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Jeremy staring at himself in the mirror, his face red as tears of anger spilled down his freckled cheeks. Kneeling the doctor listened to the whispers that he shared with his reflection, and Mike heard curses which he had been unaware the kid even knew. He was about to stand up, and attempt to comfort his fellow doctor, when the younger man formed a stuttering mess of a sentence. "You don't d-d-deserve th-his chance i-if you're going t-to be so negligent Jer, you-your parents t-told you th-that you w-were too young for this stuff. But did you listen…no…no you d-didn't, and now you've scr-sc-screwed up everything for a-a couple of p-poor l-l-little k-kids…" His stuttering transformed into sobs and he pushed his face into his arm, sobbing as he continued to apologize to no one.

Mike had resisted the yearning to stand and hug his comrade and tell him that none of this was his fault, and that he needed to ease up on himself. But he didn't, instead he slipped out, and when Jeremy came stumbling down the hall, sniffling his as downcast eyes scanned the dirty carpet, he called to him from his tiny office. Jeremy entered, and Mike explained "I want you to know that if anyone is to blame for this, it's me. I shouldn't have left Billy and Mary alone with that _freak_ , I should have asked you to cover for me while I changed the therapeutic schedules."

He coughed and looked into the other man's cerulean irises, before give him a proud smile. "I uh, I know that if you had been there, you wouldn't have let Mauvine attack them." Jeremy shook his head, "No I wouldn't have. He scares the shit out of me, Mike. I would have just frozen up and-" Mike stood, "That's bullshit." Jeremy grew a confused look and Mike sat down on the desk. "No matter what, you wouldn't have frozen. And you wouldn't have gone berserk like I might have. Because you care about those kids, you love them." He placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder and gave him a serious stare. "Never sell yourself short about the people you love Jeremy. If you still feel bad, go fix it. They love you, and if anyone can make them feel better you can."

Jeremy grew a small smile, before nodding and rushing off to repair some of the damage Mauvine did. Mike watched him go with a smile, and stepped out of the office, before moving towards the room that Foxy was locked in. He was surprised to find Chica sitting with her back against the door, speaking to her friend in a low tone. She had one of her cupcakes in hand, and was trying to speak casually despite the depressing circumstances. "So umm, Bonnie is working on a new song. One about how brave you-Mangle was…he's gonna play it for you after they let you out." There was a chuckle, before the gruff voice of her companion emitted forth from the cell. "Make sure the big lummox doesn't slander me name, ya' hear?"

She giggled and nodded slowly, "I promise." Mike smiled at the infectious sound, and stepped around the corner carefully, Chica spotting him and giving him a small smile. "Foxy…you have another visitor." The phaux-desperado spoke with a mirth, "Is it the bard 'imself? Or is Cap'n Freddy here?" She giggled harder and Mike grew a humorous look as he tiptoed over to the door, gesturing for being quiet by placing a hand over his mouth. "Well? Who be approchin'?"

Slamming his hands on the door, he yelled "NAH! Just me!" And laughed as the supposedly brave pirate inside shouted in surprise and became indignant as his two companions began laughing in harmony. "Tisn't fair sneakin' up on a poor bloke like that!" Chica stood, and had to lean on Mike for support. They could practically hear their friend fuming, and Mike could easily envision his face.

When the bout of laughter had subsided, glanced at the cupcake, "I can give that to him if you want." She glanced down at it, before nodding and giving him a heartfelt hug. "Thanks Mike." He told her that it was no problem, and upon her instance, he promised not to take a bite out of it. "Okay, Foxy, I'm gonna go share your instructions with Bonnie. Mike wants to give you something." She skipped off, looking much lighter hearted than she had a moment ago, and Mike stuck a key into the door, before turning and pushing it open. "Foxy…why is it so dark in here?" There was no response, and Mike spotted something large on the bed. "Foxy-" A hand closed on his arm and he turned in time to hear the man release a blood curdling screech, and cause Mike to practically jump out of his skin.

"AHAHAAH! You shoulda see the look on ya' face! HAHAHAA!" Foxy doubled over in hysterics, and Mike exhaled heavily. "You uh, you need to…" He coughed, and the tall redhead practically fell over. "You shouldn't do stuff like that! You almost gave me a heart-attack!" He chuckled as Foxy wiped a tear from his eye, and collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles. Sighing, Mike closed the door, flipped the switch on and watched his one eyed friend wince at the illumination. "Why were you sitting in the dark?" Foxy shrugged and covered his eye with a freckled hand. "Aye, it's easier to think in the dark…there aren't any distractions." Mike sat down beside him, "You know that it isn't your-Mangle's fault right?" He shrugged dejectedly and turned away, and Michael hesitated before handing him the cupcake.

"Listen don't blame yourself okay?" Foxy glanced at the confection, "That's not what the others would want. There trying to keep their chins up, and they need to know that you're not getting depressed by this. Okay?" The scrawny patient nodded and took a large bite out of his gift. "Can do Cap'n." Mike smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry, you're gonna be out of here before you know-" He stopped upon hearing soft-spoken singing drifting into the room, and the two men rose and followed the sound to the doorway.

There, right down the hall, Jeremy was sitting in a comfy arm chair, with one of the things that Mike feared he would never see in his lifetime, bouncing on his knee. A grinning Mary sat on his on his thigh, clapping her hands gleefully and listening intently as the doctor stumbled upon his words as he created lyrics for the song that her music box played.

 _"Here you'll never have to worry, because we're here to bring you a smile,_

 _Good to know that your back, because we've been missing you with a while." Mike glanced at Foxy, and found the redhead grinning like an idiot. "We'll talk later okay?" Foxy nodded absent-mindedly, and Mike stepped out, watching as Mary snuggled up against the young man and fell asleep as he finished his lullaby._

* * *

 **ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS** **:**

 **Qwerty1020**

 _no the feelz poor Billy, poor Mary, poor Foxy D_

 ** _ **Yeah, they got off pretty rough.**_**

 **HowlingMisfit**

 _This is amazing! One of the best stories I had read in this catagorey! :D It is always such a treat to find something this unique and creative. It's very refreshing._

 _ **Thanks!**_

 **bellekitten**

 _God, I love this story!_

 ** _Good to know!_**

 _Nightfrightpony_

 _Awesome chapter_

 ** _I was hoping that it wasn't too short or dramatic. I'm glad to know that I pulled off Mauvine, I was afraid of him being too evil or unrealistic._**


	4. In the dead of the night

Foxy was awoken by a soft and familiar voice, urging him to awaken. His eye opened and he found Freddy sitting beside his legs, shaking him slightly. Sitting up, he rubbed his head, "Aye, why ye' be wakin' a poor blighter up before dawn?" He sighed, and then gestured to the side. He turned his vision, and saw that they were not alone.

Freddy, Mike, and Jeremy were sitting around the table, the younger doctor holding a pile of files. Rolling out of bed, he staggered over to the table like a seasick drunk and sat in the closest available seat. Freddy followed him, and Jeremy dropped the files onto the table as the top hat wearing gentleman coughed and began to speak. Freddy spoke in his average deep baritone, but was slightly hushed, unwilling to wake another patient. "Mike says that in a couple days there going to interview you, to see how dangerous you really are, and we need you to be ready."

Foxy raised an eyebrow, "You want me to talk to Mangle then? Tell 'er she has to act sophisticated?" Mike and Jeremy shared a glance, before Freddy continued, "No we uh, well, these people they…they don't know that Mangle exists, and we need to keep it that way. So when the time comes…" He glanced at Mike and was given a much appreciated nod, before continuing himself. "You'll need to help us show that you aren't dangerous." Jeremy spoke up, "We're gonna try to get ahold of the security tapes so that we can prove that you were just being protective, but you need to show that you aren't volatile. And the best way to do that…" Freddy finished for him, with diligent tone. "…is to pretend that Mangle doesn't exist. Understand?"

He frowned, and scratched his chin. "So you want me to tell Mangle to stay out of sight, and when the time comes, lie?" Mike avoided his gaze for a moment, before looking him in the eye, "Yeah, that's the plan." Foxy glanced over at Freddy for guidance and received a nod.

"Okay, I'll do it."

 ** _~[0]~_**

Frank flipped through the channels, staring at the static madness with eyes full of dull rage.

 _Who the hell does Schmidt think he is? Calling for a interview when that maniac hasn't even been locked up for two days…_ Violent fantasies filled his clouded mind, and he took a sip of beer to prevent the aching for indulgence to grab hold of him. _Bad enough that the little bastard got away with it, but for the crack-head?_ He glanced down at the bandage which was wrapped around the bite-mark, and his grip tightened around the bottle, almost causing it to break and spay piercing shards everywhere.

He wondered how much the idiot had sucked up to his superiors just to convince them they should move the date. _That mutt Fitzgerald probably helped._ Grabbing the remote with the delicacy of a Neanderthal, Mauvine slammed his thumb down n the power button nad enjoyed the silence created.

It was interrupted by the barking of a dog.

Groaning, Mauvine stood and paced over to his balcony, staring out into the night. "HEY! KEEP YOUR GODDAMN MONGREL QUIET OR I'LL DO IT MYSELF!" Stepping back inside, he closed the balcony doors almost hard enough to shatter their glass centers, and slipped into the kitchen in search of more Monkey Paw. When he finally located the intoxicating liquid he flopped back down on the couch, and pulled out his cellphone after taking a deep gulp. _I'll show him, no one beats Frank Mauvine at his own goddamn game._ After a couple rings the man on the other end picked up and Mauvine began his demands. "Hey Chambers…yeah I know what time it is…you owe me a _favor_ and I want to cash it in…" He smiled at the protests, but knew that he had the old man under his thumb.

 _After all, Frank Mauvine doesn't simply_ forget _about seeing some old-timer plough a secretary on their desk without incentive._ He hung up after making his demands, confident that eventually Chambers would realize his lack of choice in the matter, and concede. Taking a long slow gulp, the tipsy blackmailer opened the drawer beside his couch, removing a revolver, before stumbling to his feet and opening the front door.

The air was chilly, the drizzle almost pleasant. The sounds of distant sirens could be heard, but they were fairly low in comparison to sounds of the soon to be silent dog.

* * *

 **ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS** **:**

 _Skulldoesminecraft chapter 3 ._

 _Interesting story, don't think I've ever seen something like this done before in Fnaf fanfics. Good job, can't wait to see what this story will bring because I can tell it will be amazing and awesome. Vegeta, What does the scouter say about it's awesomeness level? IT'S OVER 9000!  
_

 ** _I like to keep the insanity-I mean awesomeness level quite high. I'm actually surprised there aren't any fics like this one in the FNAF fandom._**

* * *

 _hangingtree8 chapter 3 ._

 _ILOVE THIS AU SO MUCH_  
 _Foxy acting like a pirate GENIUS_  
 _Love it so much  
_

 _ **Thanks!**_

* * *

 _Nightfrightpony chapter 3 ._

 _Thanks also another awesome chapter please continue with it_

 ** _Sorry if this is too short._**


	5. When we fail

Mike smiled as he strolled through parking lot. Birds chirped in the nearby trees, and the morning light graced the tree tops, turning the green a light orange. The cool air seemed to refresh him, all the awful thoughts that had clogged up his system

Today was the big day, today Foxy was finally going to be free, and today was the day that he would get to, (figuratively) spit in Mauvine's face.

The tapes had been difficult to acquire, but with them sitting on his briefcase, he felt invincible. Patting the case lightly, he grew a small smile. _When everyone sees this, that asshole will be out of here before you can say-_ There was a *BEEP* sound as received a text from Chambers. Sighing, he stopped upon reaching the concrete and opened the program, his eyes catching the words _"Your fired."_ just as a wrench connected with the back of his skull. He toppled to the ground, his phone clicking against the sidewalk beside him.

As he rolled over, and moaned as the wrench whacked against his ribs, and pain shot through him as a hand gripped his ankle and dragged him out of the office. The other hand stuffed the weapon into a pocket, before grabbing the tapes. Mike got one look at last look at his assailant's face before blacking out.

Deep sunken eyes watched his departure from a window, and a plan began to form in their twisted mind.

 ** _~0~_**

Jeremy was panicking, possibly worse than he ever had (and that was saying something).

Mike was nowhere to be found, wouldn't answer his cell phone, and the interview was in five minutes. _Okay, okay, just think about where you haven't checked yet._ But that was the problem, he had looked everywhere, he had even enlisted Bonnie and Freddy's help in locating the doctor, but he had vanished.

Chica ran up to him, biting her lip. "Jer, you don't think he forgot do you?" That hit like a ton of bricks, "No! I mean, of course he didn't, he cares about you guys." He placed a hand in hers and squeezed, eliciting a small smile out the Hispanic woman, before turning away and trying to convince himself. _Mike wouldn't do that, no matter how tired he might be he wouldn't leave us to flounder._ Mike had the footage; without that they were pretty much boned.

Deciding that some fresh air would do him good, Jeremy took the elevator down, and exited the building. Letting his hyperventilation mix with the morning air, Jeremy was about to return inside, and do his best to prove Mauvine's guilt, when he spotted a familiar black object lying on the sidewalk about ten feet away. Pacing over to it, Jeremy leaned down and identified it upon picking it up. _Mike's phone._ Dirty but still active, he pressed power and found himself staring at the last message that Mike had received from his superiors.

 ** _~0~_**

"WHY DID YOU FIRE MIKE?" Sojourn Chambers looked up from his desk, and found Jeremy Fitzgerald staring at him with the greatest fury that he had yet witnessed. "Listen, I didn't have chio-" The younger man slammed his hands down on the desk, upsetting the stability of the picture of his wife. Her disapproving glare bobbed in the air, before clattering and falling over. "I don't want to hear excuses! Do you know what's going to happen now?"

Chambers was unable to answer, now feeling quite threatened. Jeremy was smaller, and built like a scarecrow. Chambers could name a dozen doctors at Friendly Hills who were more athletic. But none were _this_ angry, Fitzgerald was angry in the way that Chambers had only read about. He was infested with that special rage granted a man twice the strength, as long as he used that strength for something violent.

Not to mention that Chambers was not the man he used to be, his boxing days were over, his legs couldn't move half as fast as they once could. He was old, bone old.

So, despite being in the position to fire the younger man, or call for help, the manager began stuttering in a way that enraged the irate doctor further and made himself feel even more desperate. "N-now j-j-just wait a moment, I-I didn't h-have a choice I say…" "WHY? WHY DIDN'T YOU HAVE A CHOICE?" Chambers licked his lips, pushing his chair further back, out of slapping and punching range. "Mauvine he…he didn't give me a choice." Jeremy looked ready to say something, to scream the consequences of his actions, the horrible things that would happen because of his decision. Then he looked ready to punch him flat in the face, to watch the blood spill down his chin.

Then the strength sapped out of his face, and Jeremy turned away. "I've got work to do…" His voice was full of the same defeat that forced his frame into a slump, and staggered out of the room, muttering to himself.

Chambers exhaled and licked his lips, a mixture of guilt and relief mixing unsettlingly in his stomach.

 ** _~0~_**

Five men and one woman stared at him from behind the table. Beside them stood Frank Mauvine, smiling like a hyena. Two orderlies stood on either side of Foxy, their hands fixed to the arms of the chair, ready to grab him if there was another "incident." Jeremy stood in front of the committee, clinging to a clipboard like a sinner to a bible.

"I umm, I would like to start, that is, I want to show you, Foxy's record, which I think will defi-definitively prove that this was an iso- an isolated incident." He gulped, and tried to find the correct file in the dozens that he clutched. The committee looked on dubiously, Foxy feeling his blood begin to pump twice as hard when Jeremy dropped a file and Mauvine failed to stifle a laugh.

"I-I-I apologize, that is to say, I mean…I was supposed to do this with a fellow doctor. And umm, I'm a bit scatterbrained…" He licked his lips, clearly on the verge of hyperventilating. The woman spoke, her tone cold and business-like, devoid of personality or life. "Mr. Fitzgerald we don't have all day." He nodded, flipping through the papers. "I apologize, umm, AH! Here we are…you see, this is the first instance of Foxy biting or attacking anyone. Sure he's gotten into some scuffles, but that's just part of his personality. And in my medical opinion, isolating him would only worsen his social skills."

The man in the middle nodded, "You may move aside as we hear testimony from Mr. Mauvine." Jeremy nodded courteously, and managed to throw a quick glare in the direction of the purple haired gentleman as he sat down. Mauvine glanced at Foxy, giving him a million dollar smile that revealed his _too_ white teeth, and his _too_ red lips. Then he turned to the committee and straightened his tie. The man in the middle of the group spoke, "Mr. Mauvine, perhaps you could tell us what provoked the attack?"

Nodding, his voice turned from the gruff one he used for business, to a silky clean one. "I was in the children's ward, asking one of them about the conditions, getting some inside information. You know how difficult it is to trust some doctors nowadays." Glancing at Jeremy, he flashed a quick grin before continuing his charade. "Well then patient 87 entered the child's ward, and threatened me. I believe that he wanted to hurt the children," Foxy began that same animalistic growl that sent shivers up the spine of his enemies. "And the bruises on two particular children, William Zeppelin and Mary Ornette," More growling, the orderlies glared at him.

"…I believe show that patient 87 has been attacking children and threatening them into silence. I would attribute this to the negligence of Mike Schmidt, the doctor in charge of the ward." A man wearing glasses to the right of the middle man leaned forward, "Isn't that Prescott's division?" Frank giggled, "Right. As if he actually runs anything…the only reason his has that job is his because of his connecti-" "MR. MAUVINE." The assaulter coughed and continued his story. "In any case, I sought to put an end to the _children's misery_ , and told patient 87 that this terrifying mix of sadistic tendencies and gross incompetence was over."

Foxy let out the kind of growl that would make a rhino feel threatened, and his fingers gripped the chair like a bear trap on a limb, causing the chair to creak and rattle. The orderlies grew concerned and Mauvine turned, flashing him a trademark grin now that the committee couldn't see it. The man who was in charge spoke up, "Dr. Fitzgerald I suggest you control your patient, or we will be forced to restrain him. By the way, you are _not_ helping your case." Jeremy gave a slightly apologetic smile as he ran over, and kneeled beside the phaux-pirate. "Listen man, I know it's difficult, but you have to keep it together here."

Foxy glared at his grinning taunter with a yellowish eye, before returning his gaze to his companion. "Aye, I'll do me best." Jeremy patted his shoulder and thanked him, before returning to his seat.

Mauvine coughed, "Anyway…patient 87 threatened me, before leaving for a short time. I assured the children that everything was going to be fine, and then was promptly attacked." Foxy stood up, yelling as the men on either side of the chair forced him back into a sitting position. "AY! You're a yellow bellied liar! Trying to sell that rubbish like it be gold!" Jeremy flashed a glare in his direction, and Mauvine gave the committee an innocent look. "Frankly, I don't care about the scar. All I want, is what's best for the children." He leaned forward, "I would never press charges against this establishment or Mike Schmidt, but I imagine the parents of those little drops of sunshine might not be so understanding." He grinned like jester and leaned forward, letting the obvious intent practically drip forth form every syllable.

It took all Foxy's willpower, not to break free and bludgeon the child abuser with his own briefcase.

"Thank you Mr. Mauvine, you can take a seat now." The purple haired assailant strode back over to the same spot as before, removing some gum and chewing excessively as he smirked. The committee glanced at one another, before their leader declared that they would need a moment for discussion.

Jeremy ran over to the redhead, a tight look on his face. "Why did you freak out?" Foxy gripped his hair, twisting it between his fingers. "I know, I know, and I'm really sorry mate." Jeremy sighed, and turned away only to find Mauvine standing not two feet away. "Looks like things aren't going quite as expected Fitzgerald." He grinned, revealing the gum that mashed between his incisors. Jeremy struggled with the urge to wipe the smug look off his face with a hearty punch, and spoke through gritted teeth. "I don't know how you got Mike fired, or what happened to those tapes…but you are not going to get away with this."

The committee finished their hushed tones, and Frank winked at his adversary. "We have come to a decision, patient 87 will be kept in solitary until further notice. We will return to the subject in two months. Meeting adjourned." Jeremy felt a vice clamp down on his heart, and a dark chuckle was released from Mauvine's direction as he moved towards the exit. "Looks like you spoke to soon kid." The committee members had begun to disperse as Foxy glared daggers at his enemy. Jeremy wanted to comfort him, he wanted to tell him that everything would be fine.

But he was never very good at lying.

 ** _~0~_**

Entering his house, Frank glanced at his prisoner and sniggered. He threw his suitcase onto the ground beside the restrained man. Flopping down on his sofa, he grabbed the remote. "I tell ya', there's nothing like coming home after a long day of work and being greeted by your significant other." He smiled, "But since I don't have one you'll have to be my companion." Mike Schmidt glared up at him, the duct tape across his mouth preventing him from speaking.

"I like you better this way. None of that blah, blah, shit you always pull." Mike tried to kick his ankle and failed. "I know what you're thinking Schidmt, "I knew he was a jerk, but this is insane even for him." Well, my _entire_ existence revolves around that job. If word got out about my, _violent_ tendencies, well I would be out of a job. Which means no fancy car, no fancy house." A smile, like an uncoiling anaconda, spread across his face, and he rested two feet on the chest of his captive. "Don't worry, I'll have your apartment cleared out by tomorrow, and everyone will think you just packed up and left town. Pretty soon no one will know you even exist…"

Outside, peering through the windows, stood Alistair Gild, his deathly cold gaze focusing on the man responsible for this misery.

* * *

 **ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:**

 **ShadoeAngel13** _chapter 4._

 _Great job really liking the personal twist you put on it._

 ** _Thanks!_**

* * *

 **Ionamoon** _chapter 4._

 _Oh my gosh! This is aaammmaaaazzzzzziiiiinnnnnggggggg! You, author! *snaps fingers sassily* get to work on another chapter! *puppy dog eyes* pweeeese?_

 _~~Miss Ionamoon_

 ** _Here you go, sorry for the delay._**

* * *

 **Qwerty1020** _chapter 4._

 _I like how u got foxy to act like foxy and mangle, Frank is a asshole and now he's going to make poor Chambers seem like a asshole_

 ** _AND done._**

* * *

 **lightshow** _cat chapter 4._

 _why is this not a thing!_

 _ **No idea.**_

* * *

 **Skulldoesminecraft** _chapter 4._

 _I've said it once and I'll say it again... I like where this is going. Keep up the great job_

 _ **Thank you so much!**_


	6. The lunatics are running the-

Frank descended the stone steps leading to his door, and froze beside the gate when he caught sight of the message painted his car in big red letters.

 **"SAVE HIM."**

Running over to the car, he stared at the words in disbelief. He cast a quick look around the block, as if the responsible party was currently watching him. Finding no one, he clicked his keys and tore open the driver's side door, glancing around in one last paranoid move before turning the ignition and pulling out.

Somber eyes watched him leave, and as soon as his car was on a different street, the skulker climbed out of the bushes, and stared in through the window, as the restrained Mike Schmidt. He smirked in the knowledge that, when Francis Mauvine entered the parking lot, he would find the message **"IT'S ME."** painted right in front of his personal space. The bastard would jump right out of his skin.

 ** _~[0]~_**

Jeremy listened to the newest phone call from his boss with growing contempt. Coming into work without Mike had been hard enough, and since the doctor was missing his phone, Jeremy had no way to contact him, something he desperately needed to do right now. Everything was slowly falling out from under him, soon a new doctor would be hired to take Mike's place, one which Mauvine would no doubt approve of.

He wanted to feel like he still had some control of the situation, but he knew that he would just be lying to himself if he did. Finally the phone call ended, and Jeremy jotted down notes. It usually took his boss five minutes to sum up what could be said in a few seconds, the man had an unfortunate addiction to rambling. _At least I'm not stuck under someone like Chambers or Mauvine._ His work was interrupted by a commotion outside, and Jeremy rushed outside to see the source.

Cony Gild stood outside, glaring at two orderlies and calling them incompetents. "You have one job, what are all these security cameras for if you can't keep track of one man!" She turned the moment he spotted Jeremy, and grabbed the young man's collar forcefully. "YOU! Have you contacted the police yet, or have you just been sitting around with your thumb up your ass all day!" Jeremy pushed loose of her grip, "I don't understand, why I would call the police?" He glanced at the orderlies for clarification, but need not have because the rich woman screamed it at him.

"MY BROTHER IS MISSING! I will have you know, that I did not donate so much to this hospital so you could screw up!" Jeremy took a step back, "Are-are you sure?" "OF COURSE I'M SURE!" She decided he wasn't worth her time and turned away, deciding to call the police herself. Jeremy was feeling an unhealthy mixture of guilt and confusion. _How could this happen? How the hell did he get out of the building without being seen? And if he could always do this, then why didn't he do it earlier?_ A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Freddy staring at him with a somber expression. "There's a problem with Bonnie…" Jeremy followed him to the source of the trouble, his head beginning to throb.

 _This day just keeps getting better and better._

 ** _~[0]~_**

Frank Mauvine darted over to his desk, glaring at the words smeared across the front. **"I'M STILL HERE."** _What the hell does that even mean?_ He buzzed for his secretary, slamming his fist down on the desk when she didn't arrive soon enough. "Di-did you do this?" He stared at her with fairly stoic expression, clearly on the verge of rage. "No sir." Nodding, he stood, glaring at her as he crossed the floor over to her. "Was this here…WHEN I LEFT LAST NIGHT?" She shook his head, his balled fists and glowering face now extremely close to her downcast gaze.

"Well what are you waiting for, GET THE JANITOR IN HERE." She nodded and skedaddled back from whence she came, her boss collapsing in his seat and rubbing his temple. _Oh god, why must I be constantly surrounded by idiots?_ A phone call struck the useless device sitting on his desk, and he figured that it must be Prescott. _He's the only one who calls people on their office phones anyway._ He picked up the phone and brought it to his ear, listening closely to the static as Fritz Smith entered the room.

"Hello? Who is this?" He beckoned the incompetent forward, and swiveled in his seat, facing the glass wall as voice sparked in through the stationary chaos. **"WAS-WAS-WAS-"** Frank shuddered at the sound of the incredibly ominous voice, and grew angry that a prank caller could instill fear in him. No one got away with scaring Frank Mauvine. "Listen to me pal! I don't have time for your idiotic jokes, so you can go to he-" **"WAS IT ME?"** That took the vinegar right out of him, and Frank gaped like a gasping fish before managing to form words.

"Who-who-why-" **"OR ME?"** Frank was filled with rage as he heard Fritz begin to chuckle at his flustered boss. "Now you listen to me you pathetic piece of shit! Either you stop harassing me or I call the police!" He was about to add a "Do you understand?!" but was interrupted by the same deep throat voice that made him feel extremely small.

 **"YOU CAN'T."** That voice, he finally recognized it. It was the voice his grandfather had used, when pretending to be a demon. His idiotic parents had insisted on sending him to the sticks every year until they were thirteen. His grandfather and grandmother had both been foolish fundamentalists, and his grandfather had told them stories about "sinners" dragged down below by demons. He would always use that same deep throated voice, made even stranger by his grandfather's own throat troubles. The distorted voice had filled his nightmares for years, sending him messages about how he would burn and writhe.

Eventually he had gotten over it, and convinced himself that neither demons nor God or any sense of justice existed in this universe. In his thirty five years he had yet to find any sense of justice or morality built into the world.

Until today that is.

Because this voice, this thing was an unspeakable horror, and it was coming straight for him. It knew where he was, and all that was left was to wait. Something was coming, and he had no way to stop it. The cherry on top was the sound of Mike Schmidt's voice, distorted from under use and warped by qualified rage. "I'm coming for you Frank. You are going to pay for what you've done." The phone went to static. In that white noise, all that Frank was able to do was compare those final words to that of his grandfather.

I'M COMING FOR YOU FRANK. " _They'll come for you in the end. No matter how much money or fame you got, it won't matter. You'll try and stop them, but you can't."_ He tore the phone off its cord in rebellion. YOU CAN'T. _Like hell I can!_ He refused to kneel, he refused to fall. It was clear that THEY were responsible. THEY wanted to lock him up, THEY wanted to get rid of him. They thought they could scribble a few nonsensical lines and give him a phone call and he wouldn't fight back?

Then those bastards _,_ had the _audacity_ to hang up on him _._ No one threatened Frank Mauvine, and no one, absolutely NO ONE, hung up on him.

Opening the bottom right drawer of his desk, he removed a revolver from it with a smile that gave Fritz gooseflesh. "Hey Mauvine…are you okay?" _I'll show them all, I'll show them what happens when you mess with me._ He remembered the other man's existence and his smile was replaced by instant fury, and he pointed the gun at the crouching man. "Get out of my office worm." Fritz stared at him like he was crazy. _Gawker, that's what he is. A foolish gawker that will just watch as real people make the world go round._ "Get. The. Fuck. Out." He cocked the weapon, and switched off the safety. The custodian raised his hands in the air and backed away, "Okay, I'm going alright." He continued to glance between the man and the barrel of the gun. Frank circled the desk, stepping closer to the retreating man with a look of condescended ire.

Then he stopped, and a morbid grin came over him. He let out a giggle that drained the sanity of both on edge men, before kicking the janitor's bucket over and watching the water spill across the floor. "I know what you are Smith, your just like THEM. You walk with THEM, you talk with THEM, and your part of the conspiracy." Smith shook his head, but Mauvine kept talking drawing closer with every spiteful word. "I took you for a fool…I was wrong. You…you're a schemer. You're a _parasite._ You think you can threaten me into submission…" Fritz shook his head but it was too late, "You think you can just screw around with me like I'm another machine? YOU THINK YOU CAN KEEP PUSHING BUTTONS, and you won't PAY?"

Smith darted for the exit and Frank released a warning shot where he had stood moments ago. "THAT'S IT! RUN! RUN YOU COWARD!" He stuck his head into the hall, "There are only two ways to react to something in this life! _Run_ , and _fight_! YOU TOOK THE COWARD'S WAY!" Watching his opponent run towards the elevator, Mauvine gave his secretary a look just hideous enough to send her running.

Smiling, he punched the elevator button, and straightened his tie. If he was going down, he was taking them with him.

* * *

 _ **No acknowledgements today. It was that or upload tomorrow. I'll edit them in late maybe.**_


	7. The heart beats harder than the brain

_**Contains lots of cursing and light gore. You have been warned.**_

* * *

"Bonnie, you need to come out right now!" Jeremy had to stop himself from banging on the closet door, not wanting to cause the slightly unstable man further distress. Chica stood to the side, having spent ten minutes trying to coax the large man out, before asking Freddy to find him. The leader stood behind, trying to help Jeremy as best he could, but failing due to his own tire and lack of enthusiasm.

Sighing, Jeremy slid down with his back against the door, and spoke in a tempered voice. "Listen, I understand that you feel like you can't handle this, I feel over loaded too. But the important thing is that we face this together alright. You're not gonna achieve anything by just locking yourself away." There was no reply, and Jeremy rubbed his eyes, receiving looks of sympathy from both Freddy and Chica. He was about to tell Bonnie that the orderlies were required to break the door down and forcibly remove him, when a gunshot rung out in the back of the room.

Jeremy saw panic flash across his companion's faces, and leapt to his feet, sprinting towards the sound of the shot as a battle cry was released by the shooter. "ALRIGHT YOU FUCKWITT'S, HERE I AM, LET'S GO! LET'S FINISH THIS!" Another gun shot, and descending screams. Several patients rushed past the hurried doctor, and Jeremy round the corner just in time to see Frank Mauvine wrap an arm around Coney Gild's neck and press the barrel against her head. "Shut up you cunt, or I'll give you a survivable injury for now, and a worse one later." Her struggling died down and she began pleading in a very small voice as Frank directed the orderlies towards the stairs.

"This doesn't concern you…so get the hell out of here before I change my mind!" He fired another warning shot and watched them scrambled for the exit. "That's it, run like the sheep you are…" Jeremy grabbed a wheel chair, and rolled it back in preparation to charge. But the wheel squeaked, and Frank twirled around, growing a twisted grin when he saw his enemy. "Thought you could sneak up on me eh faggot? Thought…that you could play the hero of this story?" Jeremy raised his arms, "Calm down Mauvine, you're a smart guy…you don't want to do this…"

"Guess what you little bitch…" Jeremy positioned his foot below the chair, "I'm giving you one last chance Frank. You have a good life, you don't want to ruin that." The finance's man, who had been on the edge of losing all his marbles for years now, raised the gun and pointed between the young doctor's eyes. "You were born a faggot, and you're gonna die one!" Three violent actions went off all at once, Frank pulled the trigger, Jeremy kicked the wheelchair in his adversary's direction as he hit the floor, and Coney bit Mauvine's left hand.

The bullet struck the wall and Jeremy bolted forward as Mauvine recovered. The madman shoved the chair back and landed a wicked punch that broke Jeremy's nose and sent him toppling to the ground. "I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU THAT YOU HAD NO BUISNESS MESSING WITH ME…" Mauvine kicked him in the ribs and turned the gun in Gild's direction just as she reached the elevator. "Move and I'll blow your fucking head off." The moment the threat was uttered, the doors to the elevator opened with a sharp "DING!" and just before Freddy hit the power, Mauvine caught sight of a glowering Mike and his grinning companion.

Two hands closed around the injured Jeremy, picking him up as he began to hyper ventilate and dragging him into the hall. Chica leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry buddy, you're gonna be fine." All he could do was listen to the shouting, scuffles, and blind shots from the front, and despite the fact that his savior could not see the gesture, he nodded.

 ** _~[0]~_**

The freak, the creeper who was responsible for everything going to shit, growled like an angered bear and swiped at him with a pale claw. His unregulated nails raked across Frank's face, drawing blood from his thin cheek. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Frank retaliated by kicking him in the stomach, and elbowing him across the side of his head.

Mike tried to remove his gun, but he merely flicked that same blood stained elbow in his face and darted into hall like a hunted fox. He passed swarms of panicking loonies, telling them to make way or start chocking lead. Just as they scattered he saw who was waiting for him up ahead. Bruin, the bastard, was standing there like a guard, wearing that same infernal hat. Frank was ready to bulrush him, when the same patient responsible for biting him joined his leader, and peered into the darkness with a powerful yellow eye.

 _SHIT!_ Turning, Frank ran in the opposite direction, hoping to hide in the storage closet and pick off his enemies one at a time. Just as his hand closed around the knob, the door opened and Muller decked him with a furious snarl. Frank spat blood as he crawled away from the tall man, with his gun sliding away from him, his hand closing around an abandoned wrench as his lanky opponent tackled him. Whipping out the wrench, he smacked it across his enemies face, producing a sickening crunch. Grabbing his lighter, the maniac stabbed it into the bloody mess he had created, laughing at the screams of protest.

"SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR FACE YOU GIANT PIECE OF SHIT!" Stabbing his knee into the larger man's stomach, Frank rolled out from under and grabbed his revolver. He dashed forward and stopped dead upon spying the children's ward. With a plan forming in his fevered mind, he charged into the area. The injured villain turned to find the children cowering before him, some under their beds, some crying into their pillows. Removing some ammo from his pocket, he refilled his fire arm and shot the security cameras. "No one can see us eh?" His ruthless smile extracted more sobs from the children and he glanced out the glass door, waiting for one of his many opponents to catch up with him.

"*HEH!* you aren't going to make it out of this alive…" Turning, he recognized the chubby form of Billy Zeppelin. Rage filled his clouded mind as he identified the brat as being responsible for his strife. "You…you started this…you took my fucking pen and _laughed_ at me." The boy smiled, his snowy teeth easy to see in the darkness. "You reap what you sow you purple fuck." Frank frowned, "What the hell are you-" The mute girl, with the jet black hair, unknown nationality and piercing eyes, leaped out of nowhere and released a gallon of Royal Purple paint onto the attacker. Surprised and half blinded, Frank stumbled backwards and slipped on the floor, his head striking the linoleum floor with thud. The children rushed past him, the Zeppelin kid holding open the door for them as they rushed towards safety.

Mauving leapt to his feet and roared as het tore forward and grabbed the girl's ankle as she tried to escape. "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT! DO YOU HEAR ME YOU LITTLE FREAK?" She kicked at him, but he merely tightened his grip, extracting cries of pain from her. Billy turned on Jeremy's flashlight, temporarily blinding the paint-soaked maniac. Mary slipped out of his grasp and grabbed Billy's hand, tugging him out of reach as Mauvine scrambled to his feet.

Pulling out his gun he grabbed the fallen flashlight, and swept the beam of light onto the escaping child. "HEY KIDDIES!" He pointed his gun at her and a smile crossed his face as she grew a deer in the headlights look. "GO TO HELL!" He fired twice and his eyes widened as the bullet made contact with skull tissue and blood splattered across the floor, and a scream ripped through the building.

 ** _~[0]~_**

Jeremy regained consciousness, and found himself lying beside the storage closet. Blood was caking on his lips, and his mouth was filled with a foul metallic taste. He straightened himself, and glanced around, spotting some of his allies searching the halls and rooms for the would-be murderer. A cry went off nearby, and he righted himself, grabbing a decommissioned fan. _It's better than nothing._

Stalking towards the sounds of pain, he clutched his bruised ribs with his left hand, using the other to guide his progress along the wall. He stepped in something wet, and prayed that it was just Fritz doing a crappy job once again. Then he spotted two small forms exit the children's ward, and rendered sightless by the piercing light of a flashlight. "HEY KIDDIES!" The light struck the two figures and everything snapped together as Jeremy heard the sound of a gun click.

Panic scathing his soul, he took one last gulp of air before racing towards the two children with a drum like heart-beat. "GO TO HELL!" He pushed them to the ground as the sound of two gunshots went off, the sound reaching him just before the bullets did.

 ** _~[0]~_**

Mary clutched Jeremy's head in her hands, tears seeping down her cheeks, and splashing across his gruesome face. Billy stood beside her, his near permanent grin faltering as he stared at the body. The salty water mixed with the gore as Mauvine's insane cackles reached her ears. "OH GOD, that's sure gonna hurt in the morning!" More insane giggles, followed by the cocking of his gun. "Oh poor sweet baby, he'll never know that he died for nothing. I'm still gonna shoot the two of you dow-"

There was a flash of red, and Frank was lying flat on the ground, a growling Foxy on top of him. The red head had gotten a hold of a coat hanger, filed it down to a sharp point, and replaced his prosthetic arm with it. "I'M GONNA GUT YOU LIKE A FISH YOU SICK WASTE OF FLESH!" Her enraged savior spat as he slowly ran the sharpened blade across Mauvine's upper neck, his predatory yellow teeth revealed as he gawked at his stunned foe.

Mary clutched Jeremy Fitzgerald's hand, her voice breaking as she stumbled upon the words. _"H-h-here y-yOu n-ne-neVer half-have to w-w-worRy."_ She had cried a lot in her life, and would cry many more times throughout her long life. But this would remain the most heart wrenching bout of sobs she could ever let loose. _"B-b-because w-w-e are hEre to M-make yoU sm-sm-s-smile."_ She choked upon finishing the parroting, and pressed her mouth against Jeremy's forehead as Freddy and Bonnie dragged Foxy off of his victim.

She didn't brush the blood from her lips, she merely let it sting against her lips as Chica picked up her and an extremely distressed Mike carried the broken form of his colleague towards the exit.

 **000000**

 _ **One more chapter to go.**_


	8. Bad news

**8**

Mike paced back and forth on the linoluem, unable to sit still, as though there was some extremely slow demon that would catch up with him if he stayed in one place.

Jeremy was in surgery at the moment, and Bonnie was lying unconscious in a nearby room, having blacked out from pain and blood loss. Mauvine was covered in bandages, Foxy had almost crushed his windpipe and in conjunction with the poisonous paint he had congested (apparently Billy had stolen it from the supply closet, it was definitely not child friendly), the doctor said the combined respiratory problems would likely force him to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Mike could not say he was sorry for the lunatic's fate.

A pyromaniac had set the front office a flame during the mass panic, and the whole hospital had been sent into chaos as patients rushed downstairs. The police had to be called to help restore order, and Mike had prayed that they hadn't used excessive force upon the more frustrating patients on the ride to emergency ward. He had promised his subordinates that he would return with a living Jeremy Fitzgerald before climbing on board the ambulance. As they exited the parking lot, the sirens of the fire department could be heard, and Mike felt gut wrenching panic, greater than any other level of fear he had yet felt, invade his form.

There were so many variables, so many things that could go awfully wrong. So many possible futures where everything was fucked. He hoped that the hospital only withstood minor damage, the alternatives were fairly horrible to consider. He hoped that this incident did not scar the people he had begun to think of as family, despite their flaws. And he hoped to god that Jeremy did not die, because he didn't know how he could ever face any of those problems without his partner.

After pacing a few more times, he peered into the room where Bonnie lay, observing the chest of the man, face wrapped like a mummy with bandages, rise and fall. The large man's chronic anxiety was bound to increase with the addition of a heavily scarred face, but Mike tried not to focus on that at the moment. Jeremy's parents had arrived not long ago, and were exactly as Jeremy's one description of them suggested. "Squat and obsolete." They seemed only concerned as to whether their son could continue his job, and Mike had to fight the urge to punch them for their obnoxious voices and unruly habits.

Finally, just when Mike was ready to claw the anticipation out of his balding skull, the surgery came to a close, and a smock wearing doctor approached the magazine stealing mother and her TV watching husband. The moment she saw him, the portly woman stood, "Is he alright doctor? Is my son still breathing?" _Does she think she's being filmed? What the hell is wrong with these people!?_ The doctor sighed, "I'm afraid I have some bad news…" Mike's heart sank, and he collapsed in his seat, feeling tears spite his eyes as the mother burst out sobbing before the doctor could even continue.

 _Oh, Jeremy, I am so, so, sorry...oh god. I am so, so sorry..._

* * *

 _ **The final chapter will be up tomorrow, I'm sorry that this wasn't sooner and longer.**_


	9. The first day of the rest of our life

_**Hey, welcome to life! I hope you enjoy**_  
 _ **In between yesterday and tomorrow**_  
 _ **Welcome to life! I hope that you get it right**_

 _ **On the way, I do confess**_  
 _ **We stumble, fall, and make a mess**_  
 ** _Everything we try to hold dear_**

* * *

 _2022_

Mike stepped out of his car, crossing the parking lot and entering the doughnut-coffee fusion shop with folder under his right arm. He heard the laughter of his friends upon entering, and paced over the booth where Bonnie was entertaining Chica with one of his many humorous voices. Freddy sat across from the lovebird's, and Mike took comfort in the fact that he continued to where his grandfather's top hat. It was a sign that EVERYTHING was different.

Foxy was by the counter, flirting with a female worker. _Somethings never change,_ Mike reminded himself as he sat down beside Freddy on the right hand side. "Has anyone ordered yet, or am I going to have select my own ultra-protein shake?" Freddy rolled his eyes, "Looks like _someone_ decided to show up." Mike sighed, "There was traffic," Chica giggled at his look of indignation and Bonnie joined her, raising a callous hand in front of his scarred nose in an attempt to stifle laughter.

"Billy and Mary still aren't here, so really I'm early." Foxy pfffted as he slid into place alongside Mike, "There youths Mikey, at least they got an excuse for bein' late." Mike raised an eyebrow, "I don't think this booth is big enough for everyone…" Chica covered her mouth as a high pitched giggle escaped, and Mike leaned forward. "What's so funny giggles?" She calmed slightly, "I just had the mental image of her sitting in his lap." Bonnie rolled his eyes at his girlfriend's antics before standing to collect their drinks and confections from the counter.

Foxy stared at her blankly, "Ye' need to stop watching them romantic comedies Chica. There giving you false hopes…that boy couldn't pick up a girl if he owned a blimp." Chica rolled her eyes playfully, but her pupils widened when she saw who stepped through the door. "MIKE!" She yelled his name in a harsh whisper, not wanting the newcomer to hear, as though he was the bogeyman and they were all small children. Getting his attention she jerked a thumb in the direction of the strangely dressed man. "Did you invite him?" Mike turned, and was stunned by the sight of Alistair Gild.

Released just four months ago (relatively soon compared to the releases of his "friends"), the man was doing extremely well for himself judging by the yellow zoot-suit, designer top hat, and purple bowtie. Mike knew that his sister had gotten him a job in the fashion department, but he hadn't expected the trickster to make his tastes in style so blatant. His shiny shoes clicked on the floor as he giggled to himself, and surprised Bonnie with a trademark "IT'S ME!" The taller man dropped two of the five cups, and Alistair offered to pay for them. Desperate to get back to his seat, Bonnie gave a friendly nod, and rushed over to the booth, slipping in to make sure that he was sitting beside Chica before the estranged man did.

Foxy turned towards Mike, grabbing his collar with his hand. "What in devil's blazes made ya' think it would be a good idea to-" Mike shrugged, "I didn't invite him! I don't even know if he's in the pictures!" He glanced at the folder as Freddy tried to calm the others. "It's not like he's is many carrying the plague!" Alistair arrived at the booth just as the words left his mouth, and the extravagant man smiled, revealing all the teeth that he had replaced with gold (there were ten or twelve according to Mike's counting). Sitting down to the right of Bonnie, he passed the drinks to the retrospective owners. _"So, who are we waiting for?"_ Bonnie pinched his brow, and Foxy avoided eye contact. Freddy cleared his throat, and thanked Gild for the cup before explaining. "Well, we had planned, to take a picture with the old gang." Alistair nodded, clearly aware of this for some reason. "And we can't do it without Billy and Mary." Another smile struck the eccentric man, and removed a lemon spike low sugar cruller.

 _"Ah the children…oh how the youth have grown. I can't wait to see them again, those two are mine kind of people."_ Mike was about to disagree, but decided to hold his tongue and hope that Alistair was incorrect. The youths in question arrived just in time to prevent any further awkward conversing, and Mike gave a sigh of relief, before waving at Mary's adoptive father, who must have driven them here.

The thin girl pulled her chubby friend towards the table, giggling at a joke he shared with her. "Hey guys!" Her voice was so sweet, Mike was unsure if he ever got use to it. She had only started talking frequently in the past three years, but she preferred silence in most situations. She was a very smart girl. She tipped her cap to Freddy and he did likewise, "Mr. Bruin." He smiled, "How is your puppet making going?" Mike had been terrified of Mary entering school and being made an outcast because of her quiet nature and odd hobbies. He had forgotten that the woodworker had faced a psychopathic murderer twice her size and three times her strength.

Petty bullies would fall beneath her confidence and sharp tongue. "It's going great!" She practically gushed, and noticed Alistair. "Goldie! I didn't know you were coming!" He smiled, revealing his replaced teeth once more. _"It is good to see you to my little puppet. You have grown into quite the young woman. I think I speak for our collective conscious when I assert that we are all extremely proud of how far you have come."_ There was no protest, and the other table goers seemed to stare at him in surprise and thanks. Mary blushed, but whether it was a result of Gild's nickname for her, or it was a consequence of the praise she received, Mike was unsure.

Bonnie grinned up at Billy, "Hey kiddo, did you take those comedy courses I recommended?" The fifteen year old nodded, "They were quite interesting, not enough to dissuade my plans for air travel…but fun." Bonnie rolled his eyes, and Foxy commented on how tall the blimp enthusiast was growing. Mike knew that it had been tough for Billy, returning to society with no friends and the label of "the boy who spent four years in an institute." He had enlisted his help at the office, having him work for cash (he was more than happy to come to work rather than return home after school) and hiring him as an "intern." He had noticed that Mary became more talkative around him, and that Billy's casual mind and depressed state dissipated especially around her.

Billy pulled up a chair, and Mary sat down on his extensive lap as a grin spread across Chica's face, and she had to stop herself from squealing. Billy was slightly confused by her squeaing, but Mary was too busy asking how Foxy was doing at the historical park. "We're in the process of building a replica of a real ship. They say I'm a contender for takin' folks on tours with it once it's finished, but I'm fine being the second mate…" He leaned forward, wiggling his eye brows as he spoke in a humorous tone. "I can always start a mutiny." Mary burst into giggles, and Billy chuckled. "Well you have to take me and BB on a ride when it's finished." She clasped Billy's hand as she said it, and Foxy nodded as took a sip. _Maybe Chica's not so wrong about those kids anyway…_

Once everyone had caught up with one another's lives, Mike insisted upon everyone crowding together so that they could take a picture. They got Mary's dad to take the picture, but Mike made them stop just before the picture was taken. "Wait a second guys…we're missing somebody…" He smiled and ran towards the exit, promising to return in a moment. Incredibly confused, Freddy had just made to the door and was about to see what the doctor was up to, when Mike returned, helping a surprise visitor to the shop. Freddy held the door open and received a smile from Jeremy Fitzgerald.

Jeremy had suffered some fairly serious brain damage, his frontal lobe almost destroyed by the twin bullets. He had short term memory loss, mood swings, and made some fairly poor decisions when left to his own devices. He had loss the majority of use in his right leg, and he suffered occasional spasms. His anxiety and depression didn't make it any easier for Mike to live with and care for him, but Jeremy had kept his sweetness and was even able to help his best friend with some of the more difficult cases regardless of his mental impairment.

Upon seeing him, Billy and Mary rushed over, nearly crushing the poor man in a hug. "It's good to see you too." Everyone else (even Alistair), were shocked and unable to do much accept gape and eventually, smile. Since he usually didn't leave the house, they hardly, if ever saw him. He had been insistent on attending this get-together however, and Mike wasn't about to disagree. Foxy called him a scallywag, and Chica lifted him into the air with a hug.

With the picture complete, they all crowded around the two doctors who had saved their lives, gripping each other with tightly closed arms, and grinned.

* * *

 _ **And you live and you'll die**_  
 _ **You'll be honest and you'll lie**_  
 _ **Put your trust where the truth is**_  
 _ **And you treasure where your heart is**_

 _ **So, welcome to life! I hope you enjoy**_  
 _ **In between yesterday and tomorrow**_  
 _ **Welcome to life! I hope that you get it**_

 _ **And, welcome to life! I hope you enjoy**_  
 _ **In between yesterday and tomorrow**_  
 _ **Welcome to life! I hope**_ _**that you get it right**_

 _ **Hope that we get it right ~ Welcome to Life, Matt Maher**_

 **Hopefully this wasn't too short or too sappy. I'll make a one shot continuing this universe if it is wanted enough (but maybe not IMMEDIATELY). NAMES: Passaro means chicken in Spanish.**

 **Bruin is another name for a bear.**

 **I don't have to explain Gild or Zeppelin. Alistair means "protector of mankind", Mary means "Wished for child/rebellion." William means "Desire, or Willpower."**

 **Coney is another name for a rabbit.**

 **Mauvine is a shade of purple. The name "Frank" refers to a tribe of German barbarians.**


End file.
